Head Over Heels For You
by Kataang-or-Zutara
Summary: Bella goes to Britain on a scholarship to a boarding school- The Boarding Academy for the Enrichment of the Musically Talented. She meets her roommates, one which takes a dislike to her, and a cute guy who she immediately falls in love with. BxE, AxJ, RxE


**'Kay, my fellow Twilighter's, this is somewhat like my other story I have going on, except the other one is for a different fandom. This is my first Twilight fic, but don't run away screaming "OME ITS SOOOO (OO...) AWFUL IM GOING TO DIE" at the words "first fic". I've written lots of other stories before, just not for Twilight. Now, you are probably tired of me rambling, if you are even reading this Author's Note.**

**I am going to update this every other week... If I get enough reviews to decide to continue it. I have high expectations! I normally get 20 reviews a chapter for my other fic, and that fandom is relativly small. I want at least 30 to continue! If you like this and you want it to continue, you best review. Don't automaticly assume others will do it. Take it in your own hands! (continues rambling about importance of reviewing)**

**Also, since you already know what the characters look like, I won't spend alot of time describing them.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight Saga, so don't sue! I own nothing but this laptop! And this cool phone! And that shiny iPod! And.... (rambles) And I own BAEMT, so don't steal it! Or my laptop! And my beta, KTBG, is awesome, so you can't have her either!**

**Bella's POV**

I stare out the window at the passing landscape. The trees and pastures and vineyards are breathtakingly beautiful, but the full beauty of the sight has no time to sink in before it is replaced by another landscape. The airport taxi I hired to take me to my new school is going fast- very fast. I peek at the speed odometer- 180 km per hour. Normally, I would be hyperventilating at the speed, but I had to much other stuff on my mind.

_What is this new school going to be like? _I wonder._ I've never been so far away from home. A boarding school.... In Britain!_

I look out the window at the passing landscapes once more. The boarding school was out in the country, and judging from the surroundings, I should arrive any minute.

My phone beeps, and I slightly jump. I look at the screen: One New Text from Jessica:

I open my phone's full keyboard and read the message:

_ru there yet r there any cute guys is ur roomate nice how is the campus r there any cute guys _

I laugh at the mention of cute guys. Leave it to my boy-crazy friends to ask me the same question about guys - twice. I open a reply:

_no im nt there yet but britian is ok so far _

I send it and close my blue slider. I put it in the back pocket of my jeans and check my watch: 3 o'clock. Jet lag was starting to have it's effect on my energy, but so far, I was surviving.

"Excuse me, miss," My taxi driver says, not turning his attention from the steep, twisting uphill climb the car was battling.

"Yes?" I ask politely.

"We are almost at the gates, and I will need your name to be permitted to enter," He requests. The hill ever so slowly begins to level out.

"My name is Isabella Swan," I state smoothly, hiding my secret dissatisfaction of my name.

"Thank you, miss," The driver says, ever so politely.

This guy was getting a good tip!

The taxi turns around a corner, and I gasp at the sight of the academy.

Black rot-iron gates surround the grounds as far as I can see. The campus looks neatly kept, green grass trimmed, colorful flowers thriving, mulch neatly contained in the beds of unfamiliar flowers. As far as I can tell, there are seven brick buildings. Each has a sign on the side of the building, but I am too far away to tell what the signs say. There is a round-about 50 meters away from the gates. In the center of the round-about, there is a brick sign. It says, in big gold letters, "Boarding Academy for the Enrichment of the Musically Talented." On the other side of the round about was the sidewalk of the front of the campus. Students rush around, hauling suitcases and luggage, hugging their parents goodbye.

The taxi pulls to a halt as one of the five security guards walks up to our taxi. The window slowly rolls downward.

"Name?" The guard asks, concise and to the point.

"Isabella Swan."

The guard looks at the clipboard in his hands. After a minute, he nods his head. "You may proceed."

The iron gates pull apart, and the car pulls up to the sidewalk.

I pull out my wallet and give my driver a 100 euro. "Keep the change."

His eyes widen. "Thank you, miss."

I smile. I walk to the trunk and grab my luggage and my instruments. As the name implies, you have to be 'musically talented' to apply to the academy. Every student that made it out of this school was swamped with scholarships to world-famous schools. Few people graduated, though: Failing at this school was below an 80.

That wasn't a problem, though. I was a straight A student.

I grab my acoustic guitar, electric guitar, keyboard, my luggage, and my carry-on bag.

Don't ask me how I carried all that, being the klutz that I am. I have no clue.

I made my way across campus, no one paticulary noticing me. Everyone was too busy carrying their instruments to their rooms. I am close enough to read the golden signs on the buildings. The one closest to me was the one labled, "Main Building". I presume that was where I needed to go to get my room key, schedule, and all that other crap schools throw on you.

I walk through the door and the air conditioning needed during early August hits me. I enjoy the refreshing change in tempeture as I approach the front desk. I look at the lady in front of me. She wear typical clothing for people working in a school: a professional looking suit, with a name tag on. It reads 'Rose Smith'.

"Name?" She asks, without even looking up from her computer screens. Her brunette bangs block her eyes.

"My name is Isabella Swan," I state, for the second time that day. While she seraches for my name, I glance around the office. Many shelves are covered with certificates and medals. I begin reading some of the lables on them. _Best Band... 2nd Place Soccer... 3rd Place Football... Highest Academic Achievment..._

"Room 502," She responds, interupting me from my reading. She reaches in a box behind her, and pulls out a key on a blue string. There is a thin strip of duct tape on it that says, "502". She reaches out to the printer behind her, and grabs a sheet of paper. She shoves it in my direction. "Schedule."

"Thank you," I quickly reply. I grab the paper and walk out the door. I look around.

_Now where are the dorms... _I ask myself silently. I look at the direction most other kids are headed towards and follow the crowd. A brick building with a heavy brown, ancient looking door is, according to the gold lettering, the dorms. I open the door and gasp at what lays inside.

The bottom floor is like a teen hangout! The walls are painted neon green, and the furniture consists of bright blue and purple couches and yellow side tables, which were normally gathered in a semi-circle around one of the TVs. Next to the orange metalic stairs, there is a corkboard, with a large banner above it that says "Accouncements" in big bold letters. One the far left side of the lounge, there is a gathering of games. Pool, foosball, and table tennis boards stood neatly, side-by-side.

I smile. _This will be so much fun..._

I walk towards the stairs and lift my luggage up the first stair. I can barley lift up my luggage! I sigh and look up. I can see the ceiling of the fifth story. I look at how far up it is, and how heavy my luggage is. I groan.

_It will take me until next year to lift my luggage up these stairs!_

"Need some help?" A deep, masculine voice calls from behind me. I turn and see a tall boy, much taller than me. Probably about six feet, ten inches. His hair is a chesnut brown, it's curls littering his forehead. He seems quite buff, probably a weight lifter. Despite his muscles, he still somewhat looks like a big teddy bear.

I nod eagerly. "Yes, please! I need to get to the fifth floor."

He laughs, a big booming laugh. Every turns to look at him, but he doesn't care. "American?" He asks as picks up my suitcase.

"How did you guess?" I ask, confused, following him up the stairs. Was it that obvious?

"Your accent," He responds.

I sigh, trying my hardest not to seem like a spoilt American that we were usually classified as.

He laughs at my response. "Don't worry. There are quite a few foriegners here, so you won't be the only one."

"Good," I sigh in relief. "I already feel a bit... different... then everybody else."

"Don't let it bother you," He comforts. He sets down my suitcase. "There you go! Fifth floor! What room are you in?"

I look around before answering him. Were we already here? Talking to this boy sure makes time pass... "502," I respond.

The boy's jaw drops. "Cool! Right across from mine!"

I smile. This boy had a way of making you feel welcomed. "Cool!" I agree. Then, I realize I need to get settled in before dinner. "Oh, I need to unpack and everything. Sorry."

"That's okay," He says, turning to go into his room. "Its cool. See you at dinner."

"See you then!" I respond. Then, I realize something. "Hey, wait!"

He turns to face me. "What's up?"

"I never got your name," I state.

"My name is Emmett. You?"

"I'm Bella."

"Well, Bella," Emmett says with fake formality. He bows. "It has been my pleasure."

I giggle, and turn back to my room. I fumble with my key and open the door.

The room is amazing, to put it simply. The walls are painted neon blue. There is a bunk-bed and a single bed, along with three chests lined up against one wall, side by side. We have a small TV, and a small bright pink refrigerator. There are 3 purple beanbag chairs in a semi-circle around the tv, and 3 yellow desks, with an electrical outlet on the side of each one.

_I wonder where my roomate is..._

A second later the door swung open. "I'm here!" Sang an angelic high-pitched voice. A beautiful stick-framed girl walked through the door. Her dark hair was cut short and streaked with red. She stood at about 5 feet, quite shorter than me. Her cheek bones were soft and her nose came to a perfect slope. She was pale enough to be confused with Snow White.

"Hi, roomate!" She practically yelled. She came over and tackled me in a hug. I hugged her back. "My name is Alice!"

I smile. At least I don't have an emo for a roomate. "My name is Bella."

Alice surveys me, looking up and down. "You need some new clothes! We should totally go shopping next weekend. I heard there was this mall about 10 miles...."

She continues to chatter as she turns to her suitcase and unzips her bright purple luggage. I do the same, hanging up clothes, organizing the dresser, all the while talking.

"So what instruments do you play?" I ask her as soon as she stops talking about the difference between the two malls in the area.

She smiles. "I sing, and I play the flute and piano. You?"

"I play guitar and piano."

"Cool!" Alice smiles. "Piano is really fun, don't you think?"

I smile. We launch into discussions of our favorite piano pieces, ranging from classics, like _Claire Du Lune, _to more contemperary music, such as _Into The Fire. _I don't even notice that I am unpacking, I am so into the discussion.

"And I really love that part where you do that chord on the lowest octave," Alice says, digging out her keyboard. I look at it admiringly. It is a sleek silver, with about 3 octaves on it.

I think I'm drooling.

Alice's long fingers stretch over the keys as I hear my favorite part of my favorite song. Alice's music shimmers in the air like burning fire, consuming everything. I hear nothing but her music. Then, abruptly, it stops.

"It goes something like that," Alice sighs, taking her fingers off the keys. "I absolutly love that song, though. It's like...." She trails off.

"Inspirational," I offer, unable to come up with a decent simile.

Alice turns to me and smiles. "Yeah..."

We sit in awkward silence, until a blonde walks into the room. She is breathtakingly beautiful. Her hair goes to her mid-back, curling neatly in blonde ringlets. Her eyes are a piercing blue, and she has a perfect figure that sets off the designer clothes she wears. (rose)

"Hey, Rose!" Alice welcomes. She must know this person from somewhere. Alice immediantly points to me. "This is Bella. Bella, Rosalie. She's an American!"

"How did you know I was an American?" I ask Alice. She knew so much...

"Emmett." Right.

Rosalie frowns as I speak. "From America?" I nod, wincing at the distain in her voice. Rosalie continues, "American idiots don't belong here. This is an elite school for musicians." She turns to Alice. "I bet she can't play any more than a kazoo."

Alice frowns. "No, Bella plays the piano and guitar. And don't be so mean. She's a nice person!"

Rosalie rolls her eyes. She looks at me one last time, and she storms out of the room.

I look at Alice expectantly, but she doesn't spot my glance. Yet, she answers the question on my tongue. "I don't know what's wrong with her. She's normally not that rude..."

I sigh and look at the empty suitcase that I finished unpacking. I glance at Alice's suitcases- unpackes as well. My stomach growls loudly enough for Alice to hear, and she giggles.

"Sounds like you're hungry. So am I," She sighs at the end. Alice looks at the clock on the wall that she hung. "It's six. Can you run across the hall and get the guys? I need to touch up my make-up."

I nod and dash across the hall. I don't have to walk far to bang on Emmett's door. I hear the lock click after almost ten seconds of waiting, and as I see the person who opened the door, all breath leaves me.

Standing there is the most handsome person I have ever seen. His bronze hair is untidy, and it stands in every which way. He is about six feet, two inches, taller than me. He is slightly lanky, not bulky at all. But what really stand out is his eyes. His bright green eyes. They bear into mine, taking my breath away.

"Yes?" The boy asks, his voice heavenly as church bells ringing.

"Uh...." I'm too shocked to speak.

Alice pops up form behind me. "Hey, Edward!" She cheers. "Are you coming to dinner?"

_Edward._ Such a wonderful name.

"Let me ask the guys," He responds, turning away. I feel like grabbing him and making him stay with me. He calls into the room, "You guys in for supper?"

"Ya!" I hear cheers from behind him, and Emmett and a honey blonde walk out of the room with Edward. In the bright hallway lights, I get a better look at the blonde. He is about 6 feet, 3 inches. He is muscular, but still lean. The boy's eyes are a golden color. I glance at Alice, and I notice how her eyes light up even more so whe she is in the presence of him

_They'd make a cute couple,_ I muse silently to myself.


End file.
